The Lost Logs
by Winged Sorceress
Summary: Well, I rediscovered Jupiter Jazz, (you catch things once you've seen the entire series,) and I wanted to tell Gren's story, Faye will have a huge part, and, yeah, it's a bit angsty...r and r, I love you!
1. Default Chapter

~*I love Gren. Don't you? Here's a lovely Gren POV for all you die hard bishie people.*~

The day started out like it had since the beginning of time, it seemed. I woke up naturally somehow at the very unnatural hour of six o'clock in the morning, took a freezing cold shower as the heater hadn't been turned on yet, ate a piece of stale bread and cup of cheap java, threw on my overcoat, took my sax under one arm, and left for another day of work. This whole getting up early buissiness was actually relatively new; about six months before Georgio offered me double paycheck if I cleaned and helped him set up shop in the morning. I had only been late once, when stomach started acting up.

It didn't feel like my last peaceful, routine morning ever. I stepped in puddles like always, I breathed out steamy air into the cold wind as always, and the chills against my cheeks reddened them as always. The guy leaving Tony's place waved, and I respectfully waved back, as always. I was always very glad he never asked me out, because I don't think I would have had the heart to say no. And lately, the caliber of the men in the town had deteriorated and I craved female affection.

The bar was even colder than the air outside and I turned on the heating unit. The boss wasn't even in yet, so I started without him. This bar was not very rowdy, which I think was largely due to the lack of women. It was a nice place where I could make fifty wulong a night from tips, which was more than enough to live off of, and just play my sax, not think abut any problems in the world, or how and what old acquaintances, namely Julia, were doing. I always had assumed that she and Vicious found each other, or possibly that Spike she spoke of, but I never thought when I was playing. It was all about the music, the music that I loved more dearly than any other woman or man.

The stools were now down, the floor reasonably swept, and my little corner set up. I treated myself to a candied cherry. When I exhaled and saw my breath, I went back over to the heater and smacked it. I flicked the red lighting on and cleaned out my beautiful brass instrument, waiting for Georgio, and the regulars with no lives who spent all their time in that place, though on average they didn't wake up till three in the afternoon.

Georgio walked in; his beard needed trimming, his hair combing, and lacking in overall maintenance. I wondered what was wrong with him.

"Morning, boss."  
"You sure want a raise. What'd you do, get here half an hour early or some crazy shit?"  
I looked at my cheap bootleg watch. "You're here 45 minutes late."  
Georgio shrugged his shoulders and began set up his drinks. "Got a letter. My daughter's getting married."  
"Congrats." I offered the best smile that I could muster up.  
He didn't say anthing.  
"You gonna make the trip all the way to Venus?"  
He still wouldn't speak and I decided to drop it.  
"You ever have kids, Gren?"  
"No," I lied. I didn't any more. The government had seen to that.  
"True, one does need a woman for that, no offense meant, friend, but when both of them leave you, there, is no point anymore."  
I felt only numbness. Everything about Titan was gone, droned back into the days that would never return. That included Rachel, dear, sweet, Rachel, Tobias, my little Toby, and stangely, most of all, above my only family that ever excisted, though briefly, was a kind, special, Vicious, who loved me. My son, the helpless infant Tobias, would have been two years old that day, but oddly my mind wandered back to the son of a bitch that sold me down the river, and the wonderful moments we shared together. I don't think he picked this day by chance either. He knew it was Toby's birthday.

Georgio's words were true and cutting. "I know loss, Georgy, though maybe not as bad as yours."  
The glasses clanked under his talking. "When you lose something, it's gone forever. I guess it's not really important what it is that you have actaully lost, just the simple fact that something of yours is..."  
I didn't urge him to finish his thought. I quickly warmed up my fingers with a c major scale and set the saxaphone back down. That thing was an anceint relic. Some uncle I had lived with for a year or so claimed it was my grandfather's. Didn't see many sax players in that day and age either. I wish I had my saxaphone with me now, but sadly it's in the apartment.

The "big guy" came in, uncharacteristically early. "Yo, Gren."  
I lit a cigarrette and nodded my good mornings back as the warm niccotine invaded my lungs.  
"I'm feeling a little jumpy this morning."  
I watched the venomous smoke emit from my nostrils. "Sorry, I got a real big syndacate costumer today. Calls himself 'Vicious.'" I made even myself believe that all I wanted was some quick cash, and that I didn't mind some illegal ways of getting it.  
He smirked to himself. "Bet he's never met a group like my guys before."  
"No, bet not." I smirked back at him, seemingly agreeing, but secretly praying for his immortal soul.  
"A bottle of whatever to go," he called to Georgio.  
"Ten."  
"Five."  
"Are you out of your mind? I said ten."  
"But it's usually only seven and a half!"  
He yawned into the refridgorator. "You, my friend, get the early bird special. It's a quarter to eight. What are you doing conscience?"  
The man reluctantly placed a crumpled bill onto the counter top and took his alchohal. "I was just discusing that with Grencia. You can't join in a conversation in the middle, Georgio."  
He very femininely placed a hand on his mouth. "Good heavens, where are my manners?"  
The heavily garmented man raised an eyebrow and left with his drink. I monosybolically chuckled at our little encounter and hopped he would pass out before he met up with Vicious. He wasn't such a bad guy when he didn't feel like it. Well, maybe he was, but no one deserved to die because of Vicious. No scum of the Earth was lower than Vicious, in my opinion.

We loitered away the next few hours until three o'clock, when a new couple that had just moved into my building came in and payed me ten wulongs to play their favorite song, something about flowers or another. I can't remember the title for the life of me, what little of it that's left, but I knew the melody by heart, and I as I played I remembered those deceivingly happy lyrics.

**_Where have all the flowers gone?  
Long time passing, I wanna know  
Where have all the flowers gone  
Long time ago_**

Such an old song. My great great grandparents sang that song, but after over a hundred years the shear beauty of it still remains. I wonder how long it will be remembered after I die. But until that moment comes, all I want to do is remember the last days of my life and realize how wonderful and precious they are, were, whatever it is. Sadly, my grammar is failing. Guess in the long run it really wasn't that important. 


	2. 

~*Hello, again. I'm glad that some people already like it! Here's chapter two.*~

I had taken a nap, and by seven thirty the bar was bustling with the sad, lonesome alcholics of all the days before. I started playing a jazz song my grandfather taught me and a few people dropped some money into my case, but I never really bothered to count it. I guessed about fifteen at most, all together. But my job wasn't to worry about if I was under tipped or not; my job was to play my heart out, like I had done for every single night of my miserable solitary life.

I played about three or four more songs, when suddenly, I wanted to play Julia's favorite song, The Space Lion. I didn't know why. I hadn't played it since she left me all alone. I shrugged the feeling away, but my fingers and my lips obeyed my conpulshion, acting on their own. I was oblivious to the world around me. All my sight had left me, and I was only left with the music of my saxaphone. The melody washed over me, cleaning me of my two years of loneliness, but stinging old wounds in my heart. The little bell over the door chinged and I came back to the physical world. In walked the first woman the bar had seen in a long time. She strolled in, depressed, but unaware of the looks she was receiving. She sat in the corner bar stool and ordered a tall mug of beer. All the time my fingers still moved automatically, the tune continuing to issue from my marvolous brass instrument.

There was a terrible sadness about her, and it filled my nostrils in the form of the cigarette smoke she exhaled. She looked like someone who had given up, and who had been given up on. That's what we all were, there at Blue Crow. She would fit in more than perfectly. My playing fluctuated slightly as the "big guy," (who now wore a mile's worth of gauze all around his body,) pointed to her and sneared to his patsies. My attention was drawn away from them. The woman sneezed, and I ended the song before the bridge.

"Take care."  
She sniffed and looked up at me. She had beautiful eyes.  
"Yeah, that was a close one."  
"Huh?" She took a pack of tissues from her pocket and wiped her nose.  
"If someone sneezes and no one says take care that person'll turn into a faery. That's what they say around here you know."  
A smile crossed her face. To the passerby, it was just the seductive facial expression of a young woman, but I saw something flash across her arced lips. "Well then, there's no problem. I'm already a faery."  
I smiled back at her, the smile I had saved for the day Julia returned to Blue Crow. I wasn't even aware of it right then, that I freely gave this to her. And now that I think of it, drifting towards certain oblivion, I never expected Julia to come back. I expected someone else to take her place, even if only for sixteen hours, forty two minutes, and nine, ten, eleven seconds. Faye was a special girl. I gave her my jacket, hoping to warm her up and keep those scumbag's eyes off of her.  
She smirked at me. "You know, I'm not as easy as I seem, Mr. Saxaphone."  
I told her what I had come to believe over the last few years but knew wasn't true. "Women aren't my style, sorry."  
"Oh, what a pity."  
I decided to tell her about the horny men she had put into a fix. "However, the others are quite interested. Didn't you know? Their are no women in this town."  
Her eyes told me her seductive tone was false. "I should be very popular, then."  
"You should be very careful." I was caught off gaurd and she threw the jacket back into my arms.  
"Thanks for the tip, Mr. Saxaphone," she teased back, swaying her hips as she left the bar. She knew that I had lied to her.

After the door closed, I remembered the day Julia left. I had let her get away from me, and I was not about to do it again. I took off from work early that evening and silently followed her down the dark and dirty allyways, behind the entire crew who had been sneaking just as stealthily.

She turned around, knowing full well that she had been followed. "Oh, you're all here."  
"Madam, your appearance is rather harmful to the eye. Or are you enticing us?"  
"Oops, you found me out." She pulled a pair of leather gloves from her breast pocket. "If I don't put these on, I just might chip a nail." She womanly giggled to herself, and a man lounged for her. To my astonished surpirse, she punched him in the face and turned to all the others. She was certainly more than a match for them and could have easily taught them a lesson, but still, I intervined. Feeling strangely protective, I smashed my saxaphone case into the next attacker's head.  
She looked up at me, shocked and confused. "Hurry!" I cried, as if there was some sort of danger.  
Still immobilized by my sudden appearance, I grabbed her arm and started running. "Mr. Saxaphone!" she exclaimed. I didn't want them following me and I pushed anything I passed into their path. I still didn't know what I was running from and why, but I felt that if I didn't run, I would lose something again. Something so precious and unique. So I kept on, Faye barely keeping up behind me. I never looked back, but I could imagine that her face was bewildered, but certainly not frightened. 


End file.
